


Frozen Over

by Moon_Theatre



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Turned Into A Demon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, German tries to write in English, Language, M/M, Near character death, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, deal with a demon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-11 17:22:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8999905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Theatre/pseuds/Moon_Theatre
Summary: One moment. It had been just one fleeting moment, but it was enough to change Hanzo's life entirely.After he and his brother, sons of the wealthy Shimada family, had been hit by an avalanche during a blizzard, Hanzo woke to find himself having become a creature of ice and snow. Since he could not face his family anymore, he chose complete isolation as his world and loneliness to be his only companion. This, however, was bound to change, as during one stormy night a certain American traveler stumbled across the demon's hut.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning:  
> This story is not abandoned but paused. I'm struggling with a massive inspirational block for "Frozen Over", due to a lot of ideas I wasn't content with and thus had to scrap. Once I get new inspiration, I will for sure continue and finish this story. I'm sorry.

The brothers still couldn’t comprehend what exactly had happened. When they set out earlier that day to get back home from the village near the mountain’s root, the sky had been clear and blue, and even though the frozen winter sun could not warm up the biting chilly air, they did not fear anything. Now, only a few hours later, darkness enclosed them and a blizzard threatened to bury them with its rage.  
Hanzo looked up to the somber sky, thick clouds sewing it shut and keeping the frozen sun dangerously far away. They were on a mountain path, halfway to Hanamura, wind whipping into their faces, cold creeping through their garments.  
“Hold on, Anija!”, Genji encouraged. “We are almost there!”  
Just when Hanzo dared to cling to the last shards of hope of surviving, he heard a thundering rumble right above his head. He turned his head, eyes widening as he saw the suffocating snow blanket rolling to the brother’s direction. Both of them could barely struggle as the avalanche took them away. Desperately, they reached for each other’s hands, fingers brushing but they did not find any hold.  
They were buried by the heavy deadness and everything went pitch-black.  
The next thing Hanzo could remember was waking up underneath the clear night sky. The stars sparkled and the moon hung menacingly above him. The blizzard had stopped and the clouds were gone. How much time had passed? His head felt twice its size and he felt dizzy as he got up to search for his brother. Him being still alive seemed like a miracle but if the avalanche didn’t kill him, his brother had to be alive, too. Even though he had no idea where to start searching, it didn't take him too long to find a single arm poking through the snow. With a gasp Hanzo fell to his knees to free his brother from the cage of snow he was trapped in. When he drew the saggy body to the surface he realized just how pale it was. Livid lips, blue hands, grey shadows beneath closed eyes, his face completely devoid of colors, snowflakes stuck to his green hair and his thick lashes… Hanzo’s former worry yielded to panic.  
“Genji… Genji! Wake up, Genji!” He began to shake his brother’s shoulders. He had nothing to warm the body. All their equipment was taken away by the avalanche. His brother just had to wake up! He just had to be alive… When the elder brother already started to lose his mind over his worry, Genji groaned silently. Then again, a bit louder this time. Hanzo winced and listened closely.  
“Ah…“  
“Genji. Do you hear me?”  
“Ahh… Ani…ja… What… happened?”, the younger man asked with a shivery voice, trying to pry open his frozen eyes.  
“We were hit by an avalanche. But everything is okay now. We will get back to Hanamura. We are almost there. We are almost back home.” Hanzo tried to encourage his brother, as he dragged him onto his back. He had to get Genji home, as fast as possible. Otherwise he was likely to die. “Hold on, brother.”  
“Anija…”, Genji groaned. “How come… you are alright?”  
“I do not… have an explanation but… does it matter? We must move on now.”  
“You are right…. But how come… you are so cold? And your face as white as a ghost?”  
After Genji had finished his sentence, Hanzo’s eyes widened in terror. The blizzard had stopped around them, and even though the snow still dwelled right there in the mountains no cold reached him anymore. He looked down to his hands, which were grabbing his brother’s thighs. They were absolutely ashen and almost translucent. While his mind was still progressing, he realized that he was anything but human now.

“Yes, it is indeed a sad, sad story about my dearest brother.”  
The green haired heir of the Shimada family paused to think about his next move in their game of _Go_. The American traveler, who sat on the opposite side of the table, listened closely to the story, even though he could not possibly believe it.  
“It happened one year ago. I was way too long unconscious and if it were not for the talented foreign doctor – Ziegler-san – my family consulted I would have probably have died only a few hours later. But I survived. The bad thing about this story is… my limbs – arms and legs – froze off, so I have to rely on prostheses.”  
When he picked up one of the Go-stones his _yukata’s_ wide sleeve revealed the mechanic arm. The American knew about those almost painfully well, looking down to his own left hand, which was also a prosthesis.  
“That’s a pretty crazy story, Genji-sama, if ya ask me.”, the American said incredulously, watching the Lord putting down the stone. “See, I don’t wanna bother you but I’ve got some questions ‘bout this. If ya’d allow me to ask.”  
“Ask then.” The younger man chuckled, the corners of his mouth barely moving because of the damaged nerves. “You have to know I genuinely enjoy your company and I value each and every one of your words and opinions, so if there is anything you wish to talk about, feel free to address it.”  
The traveler liked the young Lord. He met him a few weeks ago at the Hanamura winter market. It had been freezing cold and Genji invited him to drink tea together at a tea house, probably fascinated by his foreign looks. They discussed various things and decided that they had a lot of matching opinions. Ever since they met from time to time at the Shimada estate to drink tea and play games together.  
When he first came to the residence, he was shocked by how influential and wealthy his family was. He learned about the family being a former samurai family, which now dedicated itself to trade and economy. This was the spirit of the Meiji Era, after all.  
“Okay, I’m glad t’ hear that. I wanted t’ ask ya… how do I express myself… listen, what happened to your brother?”  
Genji sighed. “Unfortunately, he disappeared after carrying me all the way home. I doubt that he died, even though my family wants me to believe that. I have seen him that night. His skin was completely white and shimmering, but he was moving and breathing. I cannot help but think he is somewhere out there. He simply left. I never had a chance to thank him for saving me that night, and I never forgave him for leaving.”  
“But didn’t ya tell me it was night and he was all translucent ‘n stuff? I mean, what if ya jus’ imagined all these things and he really died of exhaustion right after you guys arrived at Hanamura? I don’t wanna crush yer hopes of him comin’ back one day but this whole story doesn’t make sense t’ me, t’ be honest. What do ya think could have happened to ‘im, instead of dying?”  
The younger man took a sip of his tea while watching the American rambling and making his next move. He thought for a while about his answer. Hesitantly, he rose to speak again.  
“I beg you not to make fun of me, my friend.” “I’d never.”  
“Alright. Apparently, you are quite familiar with Japanese mythology, right?” “Kinda.”  
“Very well. I read a whole lot of books about supernatural beings and mythology after my brother had vanished. And I have a theory about what could have happened that night. I believe my brother was kissed and thus cursed by a _Yuki-Onna_. He must have become a creature of ice and snow himself. I have no other explanation.”  
The traveler arched his eyebrow. “With all due respect, my friend, I can’t believe this.”  
“I already thought so. I am neither surprised nor offended in any way, do not worry. But let us leave the ghosts of the past behind now. You told me you wanted to leave Hanamura tomorrow, did you not? I bid you to be careful when walking this wretched path. I will miss you while you are on the road and I surely wish to see you again some time, so please promise not to get lost like my honored brother.”  
“I promise t’ be careful.” The traveler smiled at his new friend and thought about where to go next. He planned to travel the south next, because winter rendered mid-Honshu unbearably cold. But of cause, he had to admit, he would miss that approachable noble, too. “Thank y’ for everythin’, my friend.”  
“Well, McCree-san, I have to thank you. Thank you for listening to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading the prologue to "Frozen Over"! This is my third fanfiction for McHanzo Week 2016 and since I am short on time and my writer's block will probably prevent me from finishing this fic until tomorrow, I decided to upload the prologue and main story as two seperate chapters. Prompt was "AU". English is not my native tongue and it would be very nice of you to let me know about grammar mistakes and typos :D  
> This fanfic is inspired by the song "Winter Moon" by Erutan and the Japanese mythology. Hanzo's depiction in the story does not really fit the original Yuki-Onna myth but I changed it on purpose, so don't hate me.  
> Rating is mature, since the second chapter will deal with death and sex.
> 
> Some more notes:  
> \- This fanfic takes place during the Meiji Era (1868 - 1912)  
> \- Go -> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Go_(game)  
> \- yukata -> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yukata


	2. Cold From One Year Ago

Jesse McCree had always loved the uncertain. Adventures were like oxygen to him and when he came to Japan he was sure he would get an oxygen overdose. He loved living for the day and he never stayed at one and the same place for a long time. The man made a living with manual work wherever he decided to spend his time, and there was nothing he ever wanted to change. Sometimes, however, he cursed himself for being such an airhead, who would not listen to anyone who tried to warn him not to go to the forest on a chilly, cloudy winter day. Now, he was trapped in the silver storm, all alone. This was his loan for ignoring every kind word that old lady back in Hanamura said to him.  
It is very cloudy, today. It almost seems like the Gods were enraged. Leaving now might be a bad idea, son.  
A bad idea. Yeah, that was understated. The wind whipped into his face, pulling his hair. Unbearable cold rummaged underneath his skin, climbing through his bones. Limbs grew numb bit by bit. His ears had already gone deaf and aching, giving him a bad headache. His eyes went blind because of the bright snow. He wrapped his arms around his icy body, so he could at least pretend it would warm him. And when the furious storm calmed down a bit and his vision became clearer, he had absolutely no idea where he was.  
He found himself deep in the forest, trees blocking most of the snowflakes and he had hopelessly strayed from his path. Above him the sun was already sinking, and he had to find a place to stay the night and orientate, check his maps, compass and whatnot.  
Jesse had already accepted that he would die down in these woodlands because of the biting cold, when his still blurry eyes made out some building not very far away from him. His hopes high, he stumbled to the building, which turned out to be a small hut. He knocked with his aching blue knuckles several times, and asked seemingly non-existent owners for permission to enter, his voice shaky, and his breath visible.  
When he realized that there would not be an answer, Jesse just tried and slid open the not-even-locked door and entered the hut.  
Inside, it was pleasantly warm. He took off his shoes and looked around the small cabin. It had just two real rooms: One big room, which combined bedroom, living room and cooking area, and the second room was a bathroom. McCree couldn’t make out anyone in the cabin but he was sure there were people living in there, if the newly-lit fireplace was any indication.  
He decided to wait for the hut’s owner to return, so he could ask if it was okay for him to stay the night (even though he had no other choice but stay), but the warm and comfy bed seemed just too inviting for the exhausted traveler. Thinking the owner wouldn’t come back during that storm anyways and he would look up the way back to Hanamura tomorrow, he took off his wet clothes, slid underneath the blanket and drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He woke up with the drumming noise of big hail gobbets rapping against the windows. McCree yawned and stretched. His body felt unusually warm – strange, as if the previous day’s cold was his natural body temperature. Jesse’s senses were fully restored; and so he couldn’t help but shriek when he locked eyes with the stranger who sat by the fireplace.  
“So, you are finally awake.”, the kneeling man declared. Jesse marveled the man’s elegant movements as he got up and walked towards the bed. He was miraculously beautiful. His ivory face was framed by long ebony hair, his full, curved lips by a carefully trimmed beard. His high cheekbones made him look regal almost and his body obviously belonged to a warrior. It was muscular, yet delicate enough to move swiftly and smoothly. The body was, however, veiled by a completely clear-white yukata, with a black belt around his hips. Overall, he was blessed with a surreal beauty. The most beautiful things – however – about the stranger were his big, thick-lashed eyes. Even though he had a stern expression, it couldn’t hide the warmth and worry flashing in these caramel orbs. And that gave him away. The weird thing about him: His whole figure was white as chalk and almost translucent.  
“Tell me,”, the man muttered, standing beside the bed. “what are you doing here?”  
Jesse gulped before answering, lips forming a friendly smile.  
“Look, I’m sorry for breakin’ in. I was jus’ lost in the storm yesterday, and I thought–“  
“Quiet. I am not interested in your insignificant rambling. The only thing I asked you to do was telling me what you are doing in my hut. You broke in.” The man looked down at McCree with scorching, almost disgusted eyes, before turning away to face the fireplace.  
“Okay, okay, I got it. Yer not very happy ‘bout me bein’ here. That’s completely understandable. I’m grateful ya let me stay the night, anyways, so how ‘bout we make a deal?”  
“A deal?”, the stranger repeated.  
“Yeah. Let’s say I do ya a favor or pay ya some money and you –” McCree looked over to the window, ice still banging against it. He sighed and looked back up to the man. “– you allow lil ol’ me to stay as long as the storm ain’t done ragin’. After that, I’ll be gone and you’ll never see me again. Do we have a deal?”  
Somewhat appalled, the stranger grunted.  
“Ya have no real choice anyways, pardner. Unless ya wanna let me die out there, that is.” Jesse, arching his brow, tried to stay calm and keep his cool, but his heart actually beat like a drum. If the stranger decided to throw him out, he’d be already a corpse.  
Thinking about what to do now, the stranger snorted, watching the man in his bed cautiously over his shoulder. “I have no use for money, but the favor you promised sounds alluring. Tell me, am I allowed to ask for anything I wish?”  
He turned back at McCree, eying up the still naked man in front of him. McCree suddenly felt judged and vulnerable in his lower position and he grabbed the blanket to draw it closer. Even though he wanted the stranger to stop looking at him, he also wondered what he was thinking. Did he think McCree was attractive? And did he even care about another man’s looks? Anyhow, the American himself was certain he was not ugly. A bit ragged, maybe, but not ugly. And he had to admit that stranger was sure as hell not ugly, either.  
“Are you listening, foreigner? Anything?”, the stranger repeated, reaching for his bearded chin to gently lift it.  
McCree didn’t even try to hide his interest. He had a vague assumption of what the man wanted and he knew it wouldn’t happen without pain but Jesse McCree was no one to fear pain. If it meant, the fear would prevent him from experiencing celestial pleasure, at least. The American looked at him, eyes darkened with lust, and licked his lips.  
“Anything, doll.”  
“Very well.” The stranger drew back his hand, leaving McCree confused and defenseless. “The first thing I want you to do is to get dressed up. The second thing is do not call me ‘doll’. My name is Hanzo. The third thing would be do not ask any questions and never tell anyone about this cabin.”  
McCree watched the man, all desire immediately leaving his body. He felt relieved, yet strangely disappointed at the same time. And that was all? That? These three things? Don’t misunderstand me. He was, of course, happy about what easy favors the man in white – Hanzo, what a name! – had asked of him. On the other hand, this exactly seemed suspicious to the experienced traveler. A stranger letting him stay at their home, not expecting him to do anything special at all… That didn’t happen too often to him. McCree was not shy about meaningless kisses and didn’t even have a problem with loveless sex, but this calm man didn’t succumb to his primal drive. And that was interesting to say the least.  
“Did you bring food with you?”, the pale man asked, turning back to the fireplace and putting another log on the fire.  
Of cause he had. It would have been foolish to travel without supplies. “Yeah. Enough for a week or so.”  
“Good. I can provide you some water but you will have to cook your own meals. Now though, I will be gone for a while. Please feel free to look around the cabin. Ittekimasu.”  
The man got up and his bare feet leaped from the door into the snow, just the way he had been in the cabin, wearing nothing but his yukata.  
McCree, completely confused and also kind of worried, pushed the blanket aside and picked up his clothes. He got dressed and decided to explore his new “home”. The cooking area was a bit shabby and dirty, as if no one had used it in years. The bathtub looked similar and he knew he had to clean that wooden container before he could even consider using it. To the American all these things didn’t really rhyme. How could a man looking this tidy and clean live in a decrepit place like that? He went on, searching the room for some rag or anything like that; but since he couldn’t find one, he decided to just take his slightly ragged serape. It was old but it still did its job: it was warm and sometimes came in handy in other, more unusual ways. He scrubbed the bathtub for what felt like half an hour but it didn’t work really, since he had no water. So he stopped and waited for that stranger to come home.  
Jesse thought about that weirdly beautiful man and slowly started to realize how strange every single thing about him was. His skin was so livid and there was something about him that filled the traveler with dread. Also, Jesse couldn’t stop thinking about why Hanzo didn’t want him to tell anybody about his hut. Was he a hermit? He probably was one, trying to get away from the responsibilities Japanese culture demanded from him. But why would such a bonnie and sophisticated-looking man choose such a lifestyle? It was such a waste, really! Suddenly, McCree had a more frightening thought. Maybe, Hanzo was a serial killer, who hid in the icy mountains. Maybe he used to kidnap people residing in the surrounding villages, strangled them until they were as blue as the winter skies and buried their corpses under a thick layer of snow. Probably he would only return to get rid of his American guest as well, McCree thought. Deep inside, Jesse of course knew how ridiculous his idea had been. If he really had desired to kill him, the stranger would have had enough chances to do so while his victim had been fast asleep. Still, there had to be a secret about him, something Jesse had yet to discover. And heaven knew Jesse would discover it. 

When the man in white returned, he found the American trying to get the stove working. His problem was he didn’t know much about Japanese stoves – or Japanese kitchens in general.  
The storm was still raging outside, but though McCree did not really know how the owner of the hut had made it home without any frostbites, he didn’t have enough time to think about that. The one important thing was, he was still alive.  
Hanzo arched an eyebrow and stared at the man examining the old stove thoroughly for a while. McCree could almost feel his gaze piercing into his back but he chose not to turn around, not to meet his numb eyes. A few moments passed and none of them dared to speak a word. Jesse continued figuring out the machine, while Hanzo simply kept staring. Only as silence grew too uncomfortable to ignore it, McCree cleared his throat.  
“What? Somethin’ ya wanna tell me?” He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else.  
“What are you doing, fool?”  
The judging statue that was Hanzo just a moment ago came back to life again and he turned away, facing the still desolated bed. He sighed.  
The traveler somehow realized just now how the room had become colder since the stranger had entered it. Was it his aura? Or his demeanor? He acted pretty cold towards his guest, after all.  
“Tryin’ to figure out how this thing works. Reckon a man must eat, right?”, he drawled, struggling to keep his cool.  
The man in white huffed. He didn’t pay much attention to the American’s words; he’d rather arranged the pillow and blanket in a to him appealing way. For a man who was living all alone and without anyone to know about him, he was quite the nit-picker, Jesse thought.  
“Ya know, y’ could give lil ol’ me ‘ere a hand. Y’ sure as hell know how it’s workin’. I mean ya gotta grab some food once in a while, don’tcha.”  
Another attempt on getting some help, seemingly in vain. Hanzo didn’t even bother to look at him.  
“Ya listenin’?”  
“Do you want anything from me?”, the pale man asked annoyed.  
“Yeah. Actually, I’m askin’ for some help.”  
“You could have said so.”  
“I did!”  
“How am I supposed to understand your revolting American blathering? Especially when you are mumbling!”  
“I ain’t mum– Ya know what? Fuck it! Jus’ tell me how t’ deal with this damn thing.”  
Hanzo finally flounced towards Jesse, his head up high and his eyes angrily narrowed. He knelt down in front of the stove with his glance contemplative, as if it was the first time for him to look at it. Normally, Jesse was a very patient person but his stomach was rumbling and growling as if he had a raging grizzly inside of it and he slowly grew frustrated with that man kneeling beside him. He barely could restrain himself from screaming at him like he did before. A while passed until Hanzo nodded and got up. Only now McCree noticed how small he was. Much smaller than himself. He seemed… vulnerable.  
“You need coal.” His eyes still averted, that was all he said. Yet again silence fell.  
“So?”, McCree dared to ask. “Ya have any?”  
“… No.”  
Surprised, Jesse widely opened his eyes. “Wha–! O, well, bless yer heart!”, he shouted, more to himself than to Hanzo. “So, what do we do now?”  
“I will get some immediately. I apologize.” The man, who was so arrogant this whole time, suddenly spoke softly and even asked for forgiveness. That was strange and his behavior didn’t rhyme at all in McCree’s opinion. What was even stranger, however, was Hanzo really didn’t know how to use the stove and that coal was needed. He didn’t know, yet this hut belonged to him. Or at least he let Jesse believe this hut was his. So why didn’t he have the necessary tools to cook meals? Why did the cooking area look so dirty and unused in the place? It was almost like Hanzo never ate before.  
McCree needed to know. He needed to ask before the stranger was gone one more time. Even though “no questions” was part of their deal.  
“Hey, before ya go, ya gotta tell what’s goin’ on here?”  
“What do you mean?” Wondering, Hanzo looked up to him. His beautiful caramel eyes fixated the taller man. McCree gulped. He had to admit, he could have drowned in those eyes. How could a person that beautiful on the outside be so icy in their soul? The traveler chased these thoughts away and concentrated on what he wanted to say.  
“Listen. Ya told me not t’ ask any questions, I know, I know. But this whole thing’s kinda weird, don’tcha think? I mean, ya don’t know how the stove works, the kitchen’s way too dirty to be used daily or even once a month and the bathtub’s also absolutely unusable. This hut doesn’t seem like yer home to me. So what are ya doin’ here instead?”  
Hanzo’s eyes became darker. He looked away.  
“This is none of your business.”, the man in white whispered.  
“Ya need t’ let me know! Ya owe me!”  
“I do not owe you a thing.”, he answered, now louder. “I am letting you stay here for as long as the storm is not gone yet. I am kind to you without any expectations and you still dare to demand anything from me? You do not have to know a thing about me, for when the blizzard stops, you will leave anyway. And you will never see me again!”  
McCree was silenced. It was true; he had no right to ask the stranger for answers. They didn’t know each other and they didn’t need to know. They only had a deal. And when the storm was over, he would leave and they would most certainly never see each other again. He bit his lower lip.  
Hanzo sighed again. “Besides, I do not know anything about you. You know at least my name…”  
“Jesse.”, McCree said dryly.  
“Hm?”  
“Name’s Jesse McCree. If Hanzo’s yer first name, y’ can call me Jesse.”  
Hanzo nodded calmly. “Very well… Jesse-san.”  
For a moment, McCree thought Hanzo was trying to figure out how his English name felt on his lips. Lips like cherry blossoms. The smaller man cleared his throat.  
“I will be gone now. To get some coal. Is there something else you need?”  
“… Water.”, McCree stammered.  
For a moment, confused brown eyes lied upon McCree.  
“I thought, I told you I will provide you some water?”, Hanzo asked, more himself than really his guest.  
“Yeah, y’ said so. But I ain’t gonn’ need me some water, I’m gonn’ need me a whole lotta water. Wanna clean the bathtub, y’ know. Can’t wash m’self if the bath’s dirtier than I am.”  
Hanzo looked at him, surprised. That face somehow managed to make Jesse angry again. Why was he so confused? Did he think McCree wouldn’t wash himself? Did he look so dirty?  
The smaller man, however, didn’t seem to notice Jesse’s anger or, more likely, he didn’t care. Hanzo nodded, followed by a simple “I understand”.  
For the first time, McCree noticed Hanzo’s soft accent when he spoke English; a trait every Japanese he had talked to until now shared. The way, Hanzo articulated the words on his tongue, was harder than the pronunciation of a native speaker. Also, his sentences sounded staccato. His voice while speaking, however, was determined yet careful; his overall demeanor was haughty yet somehow self-protective in a weird, unintelligible way.  
Hanzo’s hand effortlessly pushed open the door and with a flash, he disappeared one more time into the blizzard.

Genji took a sip of his tea, while watching the ceaselessly ascending snowflakes before his window. Worried, he drew small wrinkles on his forehead. Every little piece of snow kept reminding him of that terrible night one year ago, and he wondered if his foreign friend could have make it – despite the storm – to the next village, safely and soundly.  
“Genji, say, what are you thinking about?”  
The tender voice of his spiritual coach brought Genji back to reality. Zenyatta had taught him to deeply love himself again after he had lost his limbs, and the young master was very thankful for that. Now, the Nepalese monk had become more to him than a teacher; he was a friend.  
“Well, Sensei, I was thinking about how much I hope my dear friend is unharmed.”  
“The American?”  
“Yes. I cannot help myself but worry about him. After what happened to my brother I do not trust the mountains anymore. There are things going on out there that we cannot even wish to grasp. I only hope the storm will not take another dear person from me.”  
Zenyatta’s eyes wandered through the room. It was a small room, the ground made from tatami. They were sitting on pillows in front of a tiny wooden table, where they would put their cups and the tea can. Against a wall there was another small table. On that table, however, Genji didn’t put anything but a portrait of his elder brother, which leaned against the wall. It was supposed to help the young master honoring his brother’s memory.  
“I see.”, Zenyatta murmured and took a sip of his tea. He swallowed, feeling the hot bitterness running down his throat. _Ō-cha_. The monk gazed into the big cup, watching the green fluid softly flow as he moved the cup in little circles. He was contemplating.  
“You know, Genji, the Gods are whimsical. No human being can ever understand their ways. This storm must be their work, too. So if your friend is caught up in it, there must be a reason for him to be. Do not be discouraged, though. You will see him again, for destiny is kind to you. And to your brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the first chapter is finally up! I'm so sorry you had to wait for so long. I decided to upload the big main part in several small chapters. Don't know yet, how many there are going to be. Also I didn't think Zenyatta would be part of the story but, well, here he is.  
> Ittekimasu is a Japanese proverb which is used when someone leaves their home. It's usually answered with Itterasshai but Jesse doesn't know.  
> Ō-cha is Japanese green tea.  
> Thanks for reading and bare with me, people! :D


End file.
